


The Gerudo King

by TrashCat



Category: Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time, The Legend of Zelda
Genre: Backstory, F/F, F/M, First time with a man, Headcanon, Mostly Worldbuilding Headcanons with Bonus Smut, Multi, Porn With Plot, Pre-Canon, Society-Wide Bisexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 14:14:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1431499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashCat/pseuds/TrashCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Gerudo priestess and her partner are about to meet their king for the first and possibly the only time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gerudo King

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of headcanons about Gerudo society when I was playing OoT. I also have a major crush on Ganondorf. This fic is to vent both of them.  
> I don't have a lot of experience with straight smut, but hopefully that's not too obvious!  
> (This is actually hella embarrassing to write and post but I figure ey why not)

The king was arriving today, on a black stallion. Sheera tilted her mirror to better reflect her high cheekbones and proud nose, looking critically at her own face. When she came into his presence, she had to be flawless. Anything less would be blasphemy.

Briefly the mirror reflected a flash of red silk, and Sheera smiled. Without turning around, she let herself be embraced by the slender arms of the woman with which she lived and fought and shared life.

“Rafi...” she muttered, placing her hands over the hands that wound around her waist. Rafi rested her chin on her shoulder and sighed. 

“Today's the big day...are you ready?” Rafi's voice sounded weary, heavy, tired already with the constant buzz of excitement, the praying and preparing. Sheera reached a hand around to stroke her smooth red hair.

“I'm trying to decide that. Is my eyeshadow all even?”

“Looks even enough to me. How about mine?”

Sheera looked at Rafi's face in the mirror. Her heavy lids were painted gold, and it seemed to only betray further that she'd been up all night. “It's fine—but come on, try and look more like a blushing bride, will you?” Sheera brought a smile to her own face, hoping Rafi would follow—when she didn't, Sheera twisted out of her grasp and turned to face her. “What happened to the smile I once compared to the desert's waning moon?”

Rafi snorted. “It waned away. Didn't you hear what our king did to the Hylian village on the edge of our desert?” She sighed and tossed her head, so that her earrings swung and jangled. “Raided and torched it, and chased the Hylians into the desert wastes. I thought we were a little more subtle than that.”

Sheera pursed her lips. “I heard the king feels pretty strongly about the Hylians. And besides, I remember when we were girls, you loved the idea of a ruthless leader!”

Rafi leaned against the wall of their small room, her eyes on the floor. “And I still do, but...despite his great wisdom, he took everything from them. If those Hylians couldn't get to shelter before nightfall, they'd never survive.”

“That must have been his will then.”

“I know...”

In the silence, Sheera moved across the room and sat on their bed, which was draped with both Gerudo fabrics and ones from all corners of Hyrule. Though small, their quarters were full of spoils from years of raids and trades and trickery. Today the king was bringing gifts, treasures for all his brides. They would have to make room.

Rafi crossed the room and laid next to Sheera, closing her eyes and pressing her cheek into the soft pillows. “I was up all night preparing his room and I still can't believe he's actually coming.”

“I know, right?” This morning, Sheera had risen with the sun to chant prayers with her fellow priestesses, calling on the goddesses to bless the king and the wives he would take tonight, thanking them for granting their race another perfect son. The Gerudo only had, only needed one male, who brought life to every woman who came to him. All the women of this generation were the daughters of his predecessor, and his wives by birthright. “Will you...You are going to him, right?”

Rafi nodded, and lightly grasped Sheera's hand. Sheera squeezed it. “There's no other way I might get a daughter. And...anyway, the king will take what is his.”

–

The fortress community where Sheera and Rafi lived, usually utilitarian, was flying bright flags. The wise old women were draped in all the jewels they owned, the mothers and daughters dressed in bright silks. The temple room at the top of the fortress had been perfumed with incense and candles, and the Gerudo had “borrowed” the best carpets and stuffed the nicest pillows they could find.

The young women of the fortress were the most beautifully decorated of all. They were all hoping to catch the eye of the king and appeal to his senses. Still, they'd all come to him in order: priestesses and warriors first, then the fortress guards and the traveling thieves, then the temple girls, then the trainees. Sheera and Rafi would be among the first.

Sheera perched on one of the fortress walls and listened to the talk around her.

“I don't like this veil, it makes it hard to see.”

“All this jewelry is too heavy too...what if I need to punch someone? Or, I don't know, make a quick escape?”

“Y'know, I heard the great Ganondorf's mothers are in his entourage, and the exalted Nabooru too!”

“The exalted Nabooru?! I wrote a poem for her, but I don't know if I can recite it to her face...”

Sheera smiled. She had written poems to Rafi, praised her lithe and muscular form, the strong shape of her nose, her sleek hair and enigmatic smile. Many Gerudo girls wooed the girls they loved this way.

The king had to woo no one. Just in his presence, it was said, women's desire would increase without even a touch. To recapture or anticipate the joys of the king's bed, some Gerudo kept boys from the nearby Hylians, runaways and vagabonds who wandered to the Gerudo valley. No matter how old they were, they were always “boys”: the Gerudo laughed with scorn at anyone who aspired to the level of the king by calling himself a “man.”

Rafi had had a kept boy once. Sheera remembered him; he was a pale Hylian who'd hardly had fuzz on his cheeks. He'd died in a raid, and for days Rafi hadn't left their room or spoken at all.

Now she was in the same kind of mood again. Sheera knew her partner needed time alone sometimes, and was glad to give it to her.

The afternoon sun was brutal, though, even to her desert-tempered eyes, and she considered retreating inside—

Just as she turned her back, a joyful, shrill, many-voiced cry—almost a squeal—went up among the guards, and it spread, to the old crones, the mothers and daughters, and most of all to the brides: an entourage, with flags the color of fire, was approaching the castle gates, and at its head was a man on a black stallion. The king had arrived.

–

Sheera took her place among the priestesses as the king rode between two files of Gerudo girls, looking down on them all with fiery eyes. His mothers drifted behind him on brooms.

Her heart pounded harder and harder as the king approached her, each heavy step of the horse bringing his mighty presence closer.

As the king passed her, his gaze flickered over her face, then over her form. For an instant, he paused.

His mothers swooped in. “Look at this one, Ganon!” one said, grabbing at Sheera's thin shirt and the breasts under it with gnarled hands. “She'd make a good mother, wouldn't she?”

“I used to be stacked like that too,” the other mother muttered. “Better, in fact.”

“I don't doubt it, Mother Koume,” the king said, and his voice was so deep it seemed to shake the ground beneath his horse and resonate in Sheera's chest. “Mother Kotake, I will give each of these girls the consideration they are due.”

His fiery eyes darted to Sheera's face again before he moved on.

–

Rafi should have been greeting the king at his arrival too; Sheera hoped she had been, at least. Surely Rafi's toned body and wise eyes would have caught his attention as well. Sheera imagined her beloved in the embrace of the mighty king and forgot where she was for a second, the thought was so wonderfully distracting.

If the exalted Nabooru was in the king's entourage, no one had seen her. It was disappointing, but Sheera considered that someone had to watch the king's affairs while he traveled.

After the king's journey through the harsh, malicious desert, he deserved the finest rest; his horse was led off to the stables to be cared for, his mothers were given a hospitable room, and the rest of his guards and attendants took their respective places. The king himself retreated to the spacious temple room at the top of the fortress, to dine alone. Before long he'd be ready to receive guests.

A nervousness hovered in Sheera's chest like a trapped bird. Soon she would meet the king one-on-one, and then what? She had thought that the words of instruction she'd received were enough, but now that she'd seen her husband, proud and cool on his huge horse, she couldn't imagine being so intimate with him.

And then there was what Rafi had said. The Gerudo were honorable thieves, or at least they didn't burn down entire villages. Did the king not understand that? Or did he not care?

She still hadn't seen Rafi. She prayed that her beloved wouldn't do anything drastic or rude. Just when she was starting to consider searching for her, a teenaged guard caught her by the shoulder.

“There you are! The one Lady Kotake groped?”

“Er...yes?”

“Lord Ganondorf requested your presence.”

The bird hovering in Sheera's chest fluttered frantically. “I-I'll go to him immediately.”

Following the young guard, she climbed the stairs to the top of the fortress. The guard opened the door to the king's room and Sheera stepped in, and in another instant the door was firmly closed.

It was dim in this room. Smoky with incense. Draped and lined with fine fabrics and cushions, some Gerudo, some stolen.

And in the middle of the room, reclining on cushions, was the king.

He was huge—she thought it had been the height of the horse, but no, even laying down he seemed twice as tall as any Gerudo woman. He was well-muscled, and his skin was a dusky grey, so that the gold and gems he wore shone against his bare chest. He grinned, devilishy, and beckoned her over with a huge hand.

“Come on. Sit,” he said, and the vibrations of his deep voice set her heart pounding even harder than before.

She bowed low and kneeled on the cushions before him. She didn't dare look him in the eyes, though she wanted so badly to take in every detail of his appearance.

“What's your name?” he said, shifting positions, sitting up, casual; his jewelry clinked and jingled faintly, flashing in the candlelight. He was still smiling, with a look part paternal, part predatory.

“Sheera, a priestess of the Three Goddesses,” she said, trying not to let her voice shake.

“Ahh...so you're familiar with all the old legends, aren't you?”

“Yes, my lord, of course.”

The king nodded. “I put a lot of stock in the old stories myself. The glimmer of hope they provide for our people is very compelling to me.”

“Indeed, my lord.”

The king leaned in closer, gently tilting Sheera's face up with his hand. “What about you? What sort of things interest you? What sort of dreams do you have?”

“I-I do some weaving, help care for the fortress, call our community to prayer...” The only dream she could possibly imagine now was touching the king's bare chest, letting him embrace her. “I like riding, and my partner and I—w-were hoping you would bless us with a daughter.”

The king grinned. “I'm very interested in making that happen.” He gestured for her to come closer to him, onto the same cushion as him. “I liked the look of you when I saw you in the crowd. I figured I'd make you the first bride I take tonight.”

He put a big hand on her shoulder and then slid it down to the front of her shirt.

“There's no need for this,” he said simply, and yanked it off. The fastener snapped easily and her breasts were exposed. She had painted the nipples and aerolae gold, for decoration, but he didn't seem to notice or care. He was so close to her; she leaned in willingly, wanting his touch, and he kissed her, slowly sinking down onto the pile of cushions, taking her with him.

Their lips pulled apart, and Sheera was looking at the king's rugged face—a god's face.

She trembled. He made a questioning noise deep in his chest.

“I-I just--” She bowed her head. “You are—this is...such a tremendous honor. I can hardly believe it.” He was grinning at her. “You're...I mean, I've never seen a real man before, y-you're like a god in the flesh...”

“I am a god in the flesh,” he said, amused. She caught his cockiness, but if anyone deserved to be cocky it was him—he grabbed at her breasts with rough hands and she squeaked, and he laughed at that. He began playing with them, squeezing them and rubbing the nipples with his thumbs and smearing the paint. He made an appreciative grunt, like an animal. “I love a well-endowed girl...the last few I've had were lacking in that respect.”

Sheera nodded blankly, lost in the unreality of what was happening. The king's touch was so different from Rafi's, rough and strange and overwhelming. He put his mouth to one breast and sucked, and she knotted her fingers into his ornately beaded hair, shuddering as he ran his tongue in a long slow trail up from the curve of her breast to her neck, where he sucked hard. She shifted, suddenly aware she was sitting on something stiff; when he grunted, pleased, she realized it was his growing erection. Her face grew hot as her body reacted to his, an unbearable hot throbbing between her legs. She rubbed herself on him through her clothes, but the layers of fabric between them got in the way.

“M-my lord...may I...” Her hands were already at the waist of her pants.

“Do what you wish,” he said, watching her, entertained.

She removed her pants quickly. Then, with a cautious hand, she touched him through his clothes, where his arousal strained against the cloth. She slid her hand up to the waist of the pants and pulled them down, and it sprung free. It was huge just like the rest of him, so thick she worried it couldn't fit in her. She touched it gingerly, then pressed its length against her clit and rubbed against it, slowly at first, then with greater confidence.

The king laughed, even as his breathing picked up slightly. “You're all so thirsty for cock. Real cock, not those puny Hylians...” He placed his heavy hands on her hips. “I think you're ready for it now. Put it in.”

Uncertainly, she held his cock gingerly in one hand and guided it to her entrance, then stopped, wondering how she could ever accommodate it.

“Go on,” he said, his voice hardening with impatience.

She sank down slowly onto his cock, legs shaking, whimpering at the size. This was very different from Rafi's slender fingers. The king laughed. “Never felt anything quite like that, have you?” When she shook her head, he laughed again. “Move,” he said. “Up and down. You can put your hands on my shoulders.”

Sheera did as he said, trying not to cry out every time she felt a jolt of pleasure. He helped her move after a while, grasping her hips firmly. Even in the heat of feeling, as she ran her hands over his muscles, she came to wonder what it was like to see him in battle, how many skulls he'd crushed and how much blood he'd watered the desert stones with. A savage smile sprang to her lips.

She rode him harder, closing her eyes to concentrate on the wonderful thought of the god-king in the thick of battle, and on the release she felt was coming. The king stiffened and then relaxed with a deep groan, and she came only a few moments later.

The timing was good. Better than anything she'd achieved with Rafi. Sheera was paralyzed with weariness, and the king lifted her off of him, laying her on the cushions beside him. Her opening and the insides of her thighs were sticky with thick liquid, but she didn't wipe it off, wasn't even aware of being disgusted by it. It was a gift from the king.

Her mouth was open from breathing heavily, and he rolled over and kissed her. She pressed herself into him, wrapping her arms around his form as much as she could manage.

He laughed quietly and patted her head as if she were a dog. “You are a devoted one.” Then he sat up, forcing her to break away and sit up as well. “Bring that devotion back to your people. When I'm done fucking here, I have an important theft to make—” Sheera glanced up at him, but he was already looking away, with a brooding expression that was anything but intimate. “—the most daring and important theft any Gerudo has ever made.”

She nodded, uncomprehending.

“You're a woman of the goddesses—pray to the Desert Colossus, that my efforts may succeed. I'm sure that Din, who watches over the desert, has sympathy for us.”

“That's why she blessed us with strength, my lord.”

“I hope to have not just strength, but cunning and fierceness as well.”

Sheera nodded again. In the dim and smoky candlelight, the king's profile was practically a shadow, highlighted with flickering orange. His eyes smouldered. He already seemed to be the picture of all the attributes he'd listed; but it was in the magpie nature of the Gerudo to want more. 

The king roused himself from his thoughts to clap Sheera on the back. “Go tell the girl outside that I'm ready for more.” Sheera stood up unsteadily, putting her pants back on. “And they can come in twos or threes if they're willing.”

“Yes, sir.” Before she turned to leave, Sheera bowed low. “Thank you very much, my lord.” As she left, she bowed again.

The girl at the door giggled under the veil that covered her mouth. “Your shirt's gone.”

Sheera shook her head dismissively, laughing to mask her embarrassment over her absentmindedness. “I've got others.”

“Oooh, I bet our lord'll keep it to remember you by, you lucky vixen. Just imagine him making love to it when all the girls are gone...” The guard giggled, leaning on her pike. “Is he ready to receive more brides?”

“Yes, and he said to let them in in twos and threes if they're up for it.”

The guard giggled again, falling against the wall behind her. “Din favors His Majesty. He's kept going til the break of dawn before...he's really amazing, isn't he? Those Hylian boys can only climax once!”

“It's sad, isn't it?” Sheera laughed. 

She walked away on light feet, with a light head. She'd touched the king. She belonged to him now. And it had been enjoyable, even as it had been frightening. Rafi would enjoy herself, if she did come to see the king as she should.

Though the night air was chilly, Sheera folded her arms over her chest to set off and search for her partner.

–

Rafi was sitting on top of the stables, off to the side of the fortress. Sheera nimbly climbed up to join her, settling down onto the clay roof, but Rafi didn't turn to look or acknowledge her presence at all. In the face of such unacknowledgement, Sheera felt as if she had been reduced to a girl again, trying to catch her beloved's attention.

“What're you doing?” she said, in the absence of anything else. 

“Just preparing,” Rafi answered simply.

“So...you're going to him, then?”

“I have to.”

Sheera scooted closer. “He's not that bad.”

Rafi pursed her lips, then looked Sheera in the eye for the first time, questioningly.

“He's...he's rough around the edges. But he still seems well-learned. And I think he has great aspirations for our people. He really does care about us.”

“To the exclusion of the other races,” Rafi mumbled.

“I don't know about that...” As Rafi glowered at nothing, her attention returning to the distant crags, anger flared in Sheera for a moment. She wished she had some magic to get inside Rafi's head, dig around and figure out what she was thinking—and how she could convince her to understand. “Rafi...the other races are fine. They already have it much better than we do and if our lord raids some villages to help our people—they'll bounce back. There are plenty of them, with beautiful lands and gentle weather and big cities. We're the ones we need to worry about. Not them.”

Rafi shifted, her posture less open, her face turned away.

“And if they come to fear us because of our mighty king, then—maybe that would be better,” Sheera snapped.

Rafi didn't respond to that; but eventually she turned back to face Sheera, her mouth set in a line. “It's not the Gerudo way to go to war.”

“We're not going to war with anyone, Rafi, I promise. He didn't say anything like that.”

Rafi huffed, and her hair fluttered in front of her face. “If he gets a taste for attacking villages, then attacking cities is next. We're not prepared for that, and I don't want innocent people to die. That's not hard to understand, is it?”

“No, but—”

"I just--don't know what to believe about him." Rafi stood up in a single fluid motion, and leaped to the ground, her bangles jingling as she landed. Sheera feared she would leave it at that and escape, but she turned back. "If he's too ambitious, then--I'll put a knife in his back. Someday."

Sheera searched for the right words, biting on her lip to stop herself from speaking too soon. But before she found them, Rafi had disappeared.


End file.
